The One: Exiles
by Thesseli
Summary: Former Agent Smith returns to the Matrix to continue the work of the One, and runs into some old friends and enemies along the way. Sequel to 'The One: Reloaded'.
1. Part 1: Strange Days

Part 1: Strange Days  


Former Agent Smith rubbed at his eyes and yawned, pushing the thick file across the desk and looking at it distastefully. He never would have guessed that being the One -- the supposed savior of humanity and vanquisher of their Machine overlords -- would involve so much paperwork.

He blinked a few times, trying to get up enough energy to return to the report. So far, it wasn't working. He just pushed the hardcopy a little further away, then leaned back in his chair and wondered at the workings of the human body. He hadn't really been reading for long. How could he be tired already?

He sighed. Humans were weak and inefficient; and now, he was one of them.

It had been several months since he'd taken on Neo's appearance and role -- at Neo's request, although Smith hadn't exactly been given a choice in the matter. Neo knew he was dying, and he knew that the world still needed the One…not to fight the Machines, but to make peace with them. He also knew that the only living person (so to speak) who could take on the role was Smith. Smith, his mortal enemy, the other half of the equation. Smith, the former agent, the former virus, the former AI who now resided in living flesh and who'd taken on Neo's task with great reluctance. But as he'd gotten used to his situation, Smith had become more comfortable with it, and with himself -- more accepting of his new purpose. His new mission.

Although Smith hadn't realized, in the beginning, just how boring that mission could be.

Not all the time, of course. Going back into the Matrix to work with the team of agents the mainframe had assigned to him, or following a lead on suspicious exile activity or acts of sabotage against the peacekeeping process…that wasn't boring at all. It was like being an agent again. And because nearly everyone inside and out of the Matrix thought he was dead, there was nothing like the look on an exile's face the first time they saw who was in command of the agents running the investigation.

Smith hadn't failed to notice how frequent these investigations were becoming, however, just as the planning phase of the project was starting to come together. Not the peacekeeping project; the other project. This massive undertaking, the joint venture between man and Machine, that they hoped would someday clear the skies. If they were successful, it would permit life to return to the surface; and with it, there would be freedom from the Matrix for anyone who wanted it. But the Oracle had warned them that others would be working against that goal. Too many people, both human and AI, had too much to lose if the Matrix's hold on humanity was released.

To the rich and powerful, the status quo could be quite appealing indeed.

This was all in the reports Agent Collins had been sending. And truthfully, these were the only items of real interest to him. Most of the files dealt with the logistics of bringing the human and AI scientists together so their research could begin, along with the science behind the research itself. Not that these things weren't important, but as a former system agent he simply didn't have the scientific background to consult on such an endeavor…which was what both the humans and Machines wanted. Both sides wanted the One involved. He'd had to familiarize himself with the basics via the material sent to him by Collins.

At least that was going smoothly, he mused. Smith was thankful that the three agents assigned to protect him seemed to have overcome their initial misgivings about working with him…especially Collins, who'd originally been programmed as an antivirus. Her team was doing more than just providing security now; they were acting as liaisons between the One and the mainframe, and through it the rest of the Machine world. Agent Evans, the team's intelligence unit, had prepared the rather extensive scientific documents that Smith was currently struggling through. They were very complete, and Collins had offered to send him an abridged version if he wanted one. She'd warned him that her colleague was very thorough with such things -- Evans wanted to include absolutely everything that might possibly be of help. But there was so much minutiae that he kept getting bogged down in the details.

Smith rubbed his eyes and forehead again. The material was complicated, he was getting restless, and his head was starting to hurt from staring at the tiny print on the pages. Maybe he would take Collins up on her offer of the abridged version after all. But for now, he needed a break.

He stood up and stretched luxuriously, enjoying that aspect of being human, and then headed for the bridge of the hovercraft.


	2. Part 2: Strange Attractors

Part 2: Strange Attractors  


There was a definite spring in Smith's step by the time he reached the bridge. He was looking forward to going back into the Matrix, and not just to get away from the paperwork. Every time he went back was a chance to feel like himself again; to run faster, jump higher than any human ever could. To fly. He was always happy to receive a call to meet with the agents…the agents, who appeared to be the topic of conversation just as Smith arrived.

"Which one is Evans again?" their engineer Jade was asking.

"The one with the dark hair in the twisty thing," Link replied, with a brief wave to Smith.

"The French braid," offered Kid.

Link raised an eyebrow. He liked to tease. "Oh? And how did you know what it was called?"

"A girl in my homeroom used to wear her hair like that," he explained. Then, seeing Smith, he smiled. "Hello Neo."

"Hello, Kid," Smith replied graciously. No-one had ever really admired him before, so he wasn't as embarrassed as Neo by the boy's hero worship. It was because of his bravery during the attack on Zion that Kid had been allowed to serve -- in a limited capacity -- on a ship, even though he was still underage. Kid didn't know who he really was, of course; the only ones here who did were Morpheus and Link.

They'd decided early on that they had to tell Link. The ship's operator had been there when the Oracle contacted Morpheus, and it was only a matter of time before he started noticing the anomalies in Neo's code. To his credit, Link had taken it better than they'd thought he would. He'd had what Link colorfully called his 'initial freak-out', but then he'd settled back down and seemed to accept Smith for what he now was. He was a lot better than Morpheus had been…probably because he'd never fought an agent before. But for now he was the only other human who knew. They wanted to keep this to as few people as possible; the more people who knew who 'Neo' really was, the more likely it was for someone to try to kill him.

Even the agents had expressed their concerns over this. Collins had forbidden them from telling anyone else without her express permission, plus additional confirmation from the Oracle.

"All right," said Jade, her brow wrinkling delicately as she tried to put faces to names. "So if that's Evans, then…"

"Chapman's the blonde, and Collins has the brown hair and brown eyes."

Link threw Kid an odd look at that. "You noticed her eyes?"

He nodded eagerly. "She's the only one of them with brown eyes," he said. "They're a lot easier to tell apart than the male agents, because their hair's not all the same."

"Yeah, you'll never see one of the male agents with hair like Link's," chuckled the engineer. "Although…if I was being chased by an agent with hair like Link's, I think it'd make me run a little faster."

Even Smith had to chuckle at that, as he slid into the chair beside Morpheus, who seemed to approve of the good-natured banter. "Hello, Morpheus."

"Hello," the other man replied evenly. Smith wasn't surprised at the indirect greeting; Morpheus never called him Neo. Not directly. It was only when he was speaking about Smith to someone who didn't know his secret that he referred to the One as Neo. Smith didn't really mind. It was enough that Morpheus hadn't told Lock who he really was.

"You picked the perfect time to come up, in the middle of this fascinating discussion," Link said.

Smith shrugged. "It's got to be more interesting than convection patterns in the troposphere."

Morpheus looked at him with some sympathy. "Another report from Evans?" he asked.

Smith nodded. No-one had ever gotten through one in a single sitting. "She's very knowledgeable on the subject, though. I can tell she did a lot of research just to prepare it."

"I know." Morpheus looked thoughtful. "Evans seems very knowledgeable about more than just atmospheric science. She's also quite well-acquainted with human society within the Matrix, more so than Collins and Chapman."

"Evans is always scanning for anything that might be useful to us, so she must pick up a lot of extra information along the way," Smith replied. "She's very thorough, just like Collins said." A typical new agent, he thought to himself. Overeager and overzealous, especially in the pursuit of their duties; just like he and his partners had been so long ago. Just like he'd been in the pursuit of Neo. "Why are they so interested in my security team?" he asked.

Jade turned to him. "Well, you have to admit this is a first-time thing," she said. "This is new and different, agents that aren't trying to kill us."

Kid nodded. "We can ask them things."

Smith smiled. For having had agents chase him off the roof of a building, Kid seemed to have overcome any lingering fear of them. "Yes, but they don't have to answer."

"Can't you tell them they have to answer?" asked Link curiously.

"No, it doesn't work like that." _Oh, if only it were that easy._ "They're supposed to provide security, not do whatever I tell them."

"I still don't trust them," muttered Boyce -- their medic and longtime husband of Jade. "I've had too much experience with agents; I've stitched up too many good people and lost even more for me to believe they'd ever come over to our side willingly."

"The Machines seem determined to keep the truce," Morpheus said. "Trust can be difficult, I know, but the Oracle herself is one of the people behind the treaty. She's always been on our side." He glanced at Smith. "And if she says we can trust them, we can."

"Not all of us have your unwavering faith in the Oracle, Morpheus," said Boyce. "Or in these agents that are supposed to protect Neo."

"But since we can ask them things, we might as well take advantage of it while we can," Link interrupted, hoping to forestall another argument about safety. "What sort of things did you want to know, Kid?"

"Oh, I don't know," the boy replied offhandedly. "I was just wondering if agents were…you know, like normal people, physically."

"Not really." Smith knew he could answer some of their questions about system agents without giving away that he used to be one, which would keep his more curious crewmates from pestering Collins. "Agents are much stronger, and faster…"

"I didn't mean like that," Kid said. "I meant on the outside."

Smith blinked. "Well, an agent's outward appearance is meant to blend in with the human population at large, so it really depends on the part of the Matrix you're in," he replied. "Where you lived, they wear suits, like Collins and her team. And except for the agents that have come online in the past few years, they all have auburn hair." He paused. "Does that answer your question?"

Kid shook his head. "If you had an agent standing next to a human being, and you didn't know which was which, would you be able to tell who wasn't human?"

Smith was a little confused now. Morpheus didn't look like he was able to offer any help, so he turned to Link, who was smiling. "I think he's asking if they're anatomically correct," the operator replied.

Smith stared dubiously at Link and then at Kid, whose face was now beet-red. "Yes," the ex-agent pronounced. "Yes, they most certainly are…but I wouldn't recommend asking Collins, Evans, or Chapman to prove it."

"If you're that interested in girls who don't exist in the real world, why don't you visit the woman in the red dress?" Link suggested, still grinning.

Even Boyce was smiling. "I think he's a little too young for that."

"Just because you were allowed to come on this ship, it doesn't mean you're old enough to do everything," said Jade knowingly. "Our own son is a year and a half older than you, and even he's not allowed to do that."

"C'mon, guys," moaned Kid, whose face had (impossibly) become even redder. "I wasn't asking because of that -- I just wanted to know if an agent could ever look and act enough like a human to pass as one. You know, like the Oracle and Sati do. They're programs, but they don't act like they are, and if I hadn't known better I never would have guessed either of them wasn't human. I was wondering if an agent could ever be that way."

"Why do you ask?" said Smith, his voice carefully neutral.

"It's just that I noticed, with Collins and Evans and Chapman," he said, as the color began to fade from his cheeks. "When they first started working with us, they seemed almost like robots. Really mechanical. But now they don't, not as much. I mean, they still talk like agents, just not so much like agents."

"They haven't been interacting with humans for very long, so they haven't had much time to practice their social skills," Smith replied, with an inaudible sigh of relief. "Collins was the first of the three to be activated, and she hasn't even been online for a year."

"Lovely, they're the AI equivalent of toddlers. With really big guns," sighed Boyce.

"Speaking of which," said Link, with a quick look at the monitor in front of him. "I think it's about time Neo and Morpheus got ready. We don't want to keep the girls with guns waiting."

"Neo?" Kid asked hesitantly, as they and Link stood up.

By now, Smith had become almost an expert at reading human facial expressions. "Don't worry," he said with a smile. "I won't tell Collins and the others you were asking if they were anatomically correct…no matter what the reason was for it."

The boy's mouth fell open in protest. "Neo!"


	3. Part 3: Strange Truths

Part 3: Strange Truths  


Smith was still smirking a bit when they reached the operator's station. Once they sat down in their chairs, however, he assumed a more neutral expression -- he knew it still unnerved Morpheus to see the agent's expressions on Neo's face, and he didn't want to cause any unnecessary problems. He'd actually been on his best behavior around Morpheus…and also around Agent Collins. He wasn't taking any chances, in the real world or in the Matrix, since he had a sneaking suspicion that any untoward behavior would be reported by the agents to the mainframe.

Not that he'd be doing anything untoward, of course.

"OK, guys," said Link, as he readied them for broadcast. "You're all set up. You're going in at the corner of 4th and Walnut…you need another hardline, just call me."

"All right," he replied, watching as Morpheus was hooked up. Morpheus, for whatever reason, preferred to jack in first. Smith didn't know if he wanted to make sure everything was safe for the One, or if he simply didn't want to spend those few moments of vulnerability with Smith already inside.

A few seconds later, the other man's voice came over the relay. "I'm in," he announced.

"You ready?" Link asked. Smith nodded, then closed his eyes as he sat back, preparing himself. He felt the probe going in, then the brief wave of disorientation, and when he opened his eyes again he was standing next to Morpheus in front of one of the city's typical corner stores.

Morpheus, as always, had been watching him as he reappeared in the Matrix. "I'm never going to get used to that," he said.

Smith shrugged and looked away, but he didn't reply. Even without looking, he knew that his appearance was now his own. The other man's reaction was all the proof he needed. But he would look later, anyway…he always did, whenever he went back into the Matrix. Always knowing that he will see a human version of Agent Smith, dressed in the black clothing and sunglasses of the previous One.

Smith glanced back at Morpheus, but by now his attention was elsewhere. He was looking down the street, scanning for the familiar black Audi that was scheduled to meet them. "Are they close?" Morpheus asked.

Smith shut his eyes again, reaching out with not-quite-human senses for the presence of the agents assigned to him. "Yes, very close," he replied.

Morpheus nodded. "You can feel them, the way you used to feel your partners when you were an agent."

"Not exactly," Smith confessed. "But I can tell when they're nearby." They were very near now, he could sense them. His gaze followed the other man's, and a few seconds later he was rewarded with the sight of the agents' vehicle pulling up to the curb in front of them.

The driver's side window rolled down. Agent Collins was there, her face as impassive as ever.

"Hello, Collins," said Smith, as politely as he could.

She looked at him. "Get in."

"What, no hello?" Smith asked sardonically. "I did say they needed to practice their social skills, Morpheus."

The lead agent raised an eyebrow curiously, as she looked from him to the other man and then back again. "Hello Smith, Morpheus," she replied, as if puzzled by the need for ritual greeting among humans, but willing to participate anyway. "There's been a great deal of exile activity in the past two weeks, so if you're ready to begin, we can start our briefing." She paused thoughtfully. "So get in…please."


	4. Part 4: Strange Avenues

Part 4: Strange Avenues  


What Collins told them when they'd arrived was true. There had been much more exile activity in the past few weeks than usual, including what appeared to be several attempts at spying on the scientific programs involved in the project with the humans. Something was definitely up.

"There have been no overt incidents of sabotage yet," said Collins, her eyes still on the road. They were on their way to investigate a site outside the city, an area of subtle code manipulation that looked like a high-level exile's handiwork. "But our scientists are worried. They're saying it's only a matter of time until something happens, and they don't want their lives endangered. Some of them are even threatening to stop their work until internal security is increased." There was the faintest hint of disdain in the agent's voice. "They say that protecting the One is not enough."

"They can't expect your team to handle that, in addition to what you're doing now," replied Morpheus, frowning.

"They don't. The mainframe is performing an analysis of the situation, and will assign another team of operatives to watch over the project once the analysis is complete."

"More agents?" Smith asked.

Collins nodded. "Not our team -- our duties will not be compromised," she assured them.

This seemed to put Morpheus more at ease, knowing that the team they'd been working with wouldn't be dividing their efforts. Smith took this as a sign of how far they'd come, on both sides. The first time they'd met the agents designated as his protectors, Morpheus wasn't quite willing to trust the One's safety to them…even if the One was now Smith.

"We will be responsible for his safety in the Matrix," Collins had proclaimed, after their group meeting with the Oracle that day. There was something extremely arrogant about the way she'd said it, as if she didn't believe a mere human bodyguard contingent could do the job. Morpheus had bristled, but he knew that their presence was a gift from the Machines in charge, and he didn't want to jeopardize the truce. At the time, Smith hadn't been pleased either. Now both he and Morpheus were more accustomed to the situation and to the agents assigned to him. (It helped that Morpheus and Collins had been of similar opinion on Smith, in the beginning.) And Smith could tell that Morpheus found it amusing that Collins, who'd only been online for a few months, was giving orders to a former agent who'd been around since the first version of the Matrix.

"It's rather strange to hear you describe your scientists as 'worried'," Morpheus commented, after a few moments. "Emotions usually aren't associated with the Machines."

"With time, any sufficiently complex AI can develop emotions, if given the right stimuli," Smith replied offhandedly. Knowing that Collins would likely protest, he continued. "An agent, for example, might experience feelings of satisfaction at a job well-done, or determination to complete a mission, or curiosity at something new…" Frustration, anger, and hatred would come later, if at all. "It may not be as strong an emotion as a human would have, but it's still an emotion."

Evans looked like she was in agreement, but Collins' eyes had narrowed behind her shades. It looked like she definitely wanted to object, but this time it wasn't Smith who interrupted.

"Excuse me," said Chapman calmly, from her seat in the back next to Evans. "But we are being followed."

Collins' eyes now turned to the rearview mirror. The expression on the command unit's face sent a bolt of alarm through Smith, but it put to rest any arguments that agents had no emotions -- she was smiling, in the same way Smith used to smile before gunning down a resistant.

"Good," she declared, and hit the gas...


	5. Part 5: Strange Fortune

Part 5: Strange Fortune  


"Good?" Smith repeated, trying to look over his shoulder to see who was behind them…and then falling back against the seat as their velocity increased, the Audi's tires squealing in protest as they shot forward. "You wanted us to be followed?" he asked, turning back towards their driver.

Collins didn't answer; her attention was entirely focused elsewhere. "Check the plates."

"I already have," Evans replied. "They're not on file."

"Fake license plates, and following us," the lead agent said, still smiling slightly, and Smith recognized the look of anticipation in her eyes as the same one she'd had when challenged by Seraph. "How far until the next stretch of open ground?"

"Two point eight miles."

"Good," she said again, and pushed the accelerator all the way down.

Smith glanced in the rearview mirror, and saw a silver Jaguar with tinted windows coming up behind them. They had to be doing over eighty miles an hour to have caught up so quickly. "You're leading them into a trap," he stated, wishing he could see through the darkened glass to the person or persons inside the other car.

"Yes," replied Collins.

"Who's waiting at the other end of it?"

The agent raised an eyebrow, as she'd done when perplexed by Smith's apparent need to participate in human greeting rituals. "No-one."

Smith exhaled sharply, reminding himself to be patient with the newly-activated AI's. "Then who will catch them, once the trap is sprung?" he asked.

"Us," she pronounced firmly, and wrenched the wheel all the way to the left…


	6. Part 6: Strange Luck

Part 6: Strange Luck  


The Audi did a complete 360, swerving onto the median and spinning. By the time their pursuers had time to react, their vehicle had already passed them. Collins hit the gas again and now they were chasing the Jag.

"So this was your plan? You were using Morpheus and I as bait, to get the exiles to show themselves?" Smith growled, grabbing at the seat and handrest to keep himself in place.

"Technically, no," Evans said brightly. "Bait is consumed."

"And it's only yourself who's of interest to the exiles we pursue," added Chapman. "Or so it seems. There are always increased exile sightings whenever you're in the Matrix."

"We knew we couldn't keep this part of the secret forever…they probably want to know why you're still alive, and what you might be planning," said Morpheus, just as someone in the Jaguar began shooting at them. Instinctively he ducked down, as did Smith, drawing his own weapon as he did so. Bullets hit the hood of the Audi and the mirror on the driver's side, knocking it into the window and cracking it.

"I will not allow them to escape again," Collins declared, and punched through the already broken glass, shattering it completely. With her right hand still on the wheel, she leaned out of the window and began shooting at the Jaguar. Morpheus had rolled down a back window and was firing at them as well. "Be careful, Morpheus, we don't want you to be injured," she cautioned.

And what about me? Smith thought, watching Collins pull back to avoid the shots that were now aimed at her. He shook his head, wondering if he'd gone through all he had just to be killed in a car accident. Which brought up another disturbing subject…the human body's limited lifespan. The night he'd fought Neo that final time, he'd expected to either triumph over the One -- and continue existing forever -- or die then and there. Even after inheriting a physical body, he'd never given a thought to slowly succumbing to old age. That might not be relevant, considering what was happening to him right now. Weren't the agents supposed to be protecting him?

"Why does your command unit drive?" he asked, his fingers still digging into the leather seatcover.

"What do you mean?" replied Evans, who also appeared to be hanging on for dear life.

"It's been my experience that a team's combat unit is typically the driver; wouldn't that be Agent Chapman?"

"Agent Collins always drives," Chapman said calmly.

Evans nodded. "Agent Collins is an excellent driver," she said, as their team leader leaned out the window to fire again. "Because you and Morpheus are here, she's taking very special care so that neither of you will be hurt. Normally she would have stopped whoever we're chasing by crashing into them."

"I suppose we should be thankful that she hasn't thrown us out of the car so she can crash into them," he muttered. Collins turned and eyed him, looking at him as if she was considering doing just that. He shook his head. "Oh no, you can't be thinking of—"

"No," she said oddly, still staring at him. "I need you for something else." She tugged him closer. "Take the wheel," she ordered, and pulled herself halfway out of the car so that she was sitting in the window, her entire upper body outside the vehicle. She began shooting again.

Smith slid over as quickly as he could, trying to avoid the agent's legs -- she seemed determined to kick him each time she dodged an incoming bullet -- and stared in disbelief as Morpheus climbed into the front of the Audi and began firing at the Jaguar as well. Incredibly, he looked like he was enjoying himself. "Is everyone in here crazy?" he demanded.

"Smith, this is just like tangling with sentinels in the Neb," Morpheus replied, smiling broadly.

"The Neb was rebuilt out of bits and pieces of other ships after a sentinel attack. There's less than a third of the original left, that's why it was renamed -- that's why now it's called the Ishtar and not the Nebuchadnezzar," he said, gripping the wheel tightly as he tried to bring them directly behind the Jag. "And if you hadn't noticed, we can't be put back together as easily as your ship."

Morpheus just smiled again and kept on shooting. Evans and Chapman were encouraging him, their higher visual acuity allowing them to spot openings to target before any human could.

Smith shook his head once more. He was now officially the sanest person there. He risked a quick glance at Collins and then wished he hadn't…the lead agent had somehow pulled herself even further out of the window, and was steadying her arm against the roof of the car. "Hold us steady," she called, over the rush of the wind. "It has to be smoother."

"It's rather difficult at a hundred miles an hour, but certainly, whatever you say," Smith shot back. "Would you like anything else while I'm at it?"

"No, that won't be necessary," she replied evenly, and fired one more time.

From where he was sitting, Smith could tell that Collins had been aiming for the left rear wheel. And she hit it. Smith saw her hit it. There was no way the bullet from her Desert Eagle could have caused anything more than a blown-out tire. The car ahead of them should have immediately begun to slow down, and then should have shuddered to a stop.

Instead, the silver Jaguar exploded into a ball of flame.


	7. Part 7: Strange Breed

Part 7: Strange Breed  


The Audi veered sharply to the right, passing by the burning Jag before screeching to a halt. Smith was glad that his reflexes were as fast as they'd always been; a driver who'd been only human would have either hit the other car or flipped over their own. Luckily there were no other vehicles nearby…he could see why Collins had waited to start the chase until they'd reached an open stretch of road.

Collins had jumped out even before they'd stopped moving and was now halfway to the fire, her weapon drawn. Smith was intrigued. Aside from his desire to see who was behind all the clandestine activity, he wanted to see just who'd managed to perturb the lead agent enough to bring her emotions to the surface. While some of his former colleagues had been more demonstrative than others, they were always the agents who'd been online the longest. They were the ones who'd had time to evolve. Collins would no doubt return to her detached and inexpressive self once this was over with.

But from the look on her face, it didn't seem like that would be anytime soon.

"No-one was in there," she said stiffly, as Smith and the others caught up to her. She was standing very close to the wreck -- the agents were more resistant to fire than humans, but it could still be quite damaging to them -- and she seemed to be sniffing the air, as if trying to pick up a scent.

"That's impossible, there had to be at least two people in there, the driver and the shooter," replied Morpheus.

She shook her head. "They got out before the crash."

"How can you say that? Even an agent can't see through all that fire and smoke."

"I don't have to." At his questioning look, she continued. "Even exiles' bodies burn."

Smith's brow furrowed as he considered what she was saying. "She means she can't smell anyone cooking in there," he replied distastefully. "Are you sure?"

She breathed in again. "I'm sure."

"Just like you were sure you hit the tire and not the gas tank," said Smith. "This car was rigged to explode."

Morpheus frowned, and he stepped a little closer to Collins. "To destroy any evidence, and let the occupants escape in the confusion."

Collins nodded solemnly. "I'll send a message to headquarters; they can send an investigative team to search for any evidence that wasn't incinerated." The lead agent looked positively disappointed. Evans and Chapman weren't saying anything; they were probably as frustrated as their command unit. They'd been chasing these people for months, and this was the closest they'd come to getting them.

At that moment, Morpheus' cell phone rang. "Probably Link, checking to see if we're all right," Smith said, with a hint of a smile. For all his good-natured talk, their operator could be a bit of a mother hen at times. They could use some of both right now.

"Yes?" Morpheus said into the receiver. Then his expression changed. "How did you get this number?" he said suspiciously.

"Who is it?" Smith asked softly.

Morpheus didn't reply directly; instead, he turned up the volume so the voice on the other end of the line could be heard clearly by the others.

"…at the restaurant. You and the agents."

Smith recognized the voice, the accent, from both his memory and Neo's. "The Merovingian."

"We had suspected him," Collins whispered. "Although we had no direct evidence. He covers his tracks too well."

"You will not be harmed," the Frenchman continued, "although I certainly hope there will be no incident like the one you were involved in last time you were here, Morpheus." There was a brief pause, and when the Merovingian spoke again it was with a kind of forced, fake casualness, but there was a definite edge to it. "And be sure to bring your friend who looks like Agent Smith."


	8. Part 8: Strange World

Part 8: Strange World  


"The Merovingian," Smith said, as they made their way back to their car. "I should have known he was involved in this."

"It would certainly explain where the driver and shooter went," replied Morpheus grimly. "The twin 'ghosts' that work for him were probably the ones following us."

"They would be the logical choice for the task," agreed Collins. "They wouldn't need to worry about how recklessly they were driving; they could simply become insubstantial, if they were to be severely injured."

"Just as you would switch hosts," Smith mused. "A very useful skill indeed. Most programs in the Matrix don't have any extraordinary abilities…apart from system agents."

Morpheus frowned. "Could they be former agents who'd become exiles?"

Collins looked almost offended that he'd even suggested such a thing. "Certainly not."

"The Merovingian has made several attempts to recruit active agents in the past," said Evans.

"All his attempts failed."

"All attempts that we know of," replied Smith. "The mainframe doesn't keep files on every program that was deleted or exiled. Who's to say that Clark, Ross, and Greer weren't the last agents to be approached by the Merovingian? He may have gotten to some other team and made them an offer they couldn't refuse. That's something I'm sure the mainframe wouldn't want to let out. An agent who'd chosen exile would be extremely dangerous." He paused. "As we all know."

Collins shook her head. "No agent, exiled or otherwise, can do what they do. Not even you," she said. "So unless the Merovingian can somehow alter an AI's most basic operating code - without causing it to crash, malfunction, or go permanently offline - I don't see how it's possible."

"Whatever they are, we can assume we'll be seeing them today," said Morpheus. "The Merovingian assured me that we'll be operating under a temporary truce…as long as we don't attack first."

"And we won't attack first," replied Smith, looking pointedly at Collins. "Will we?"

"No hostilities will be initiated," said the command unit laconically. "But they will be responded to."

"Fair enough," said Morpheus, as they came up to the Audi. Now that they were close, they could see the damage it had taken during the chase…bullet holes, broken glass, the front bumper hanging nearly off. It was barely drivable, and there was no way they'd even be able to approach the Merovingian's restaurant without being pulled over by the police or turned away at the front door.

Smith turned to the agents. "We're going to need another car."


	9. Part 9: Strange Bedfellows

Part 9: Strange Bedfellows  


Getting another car turned out not to be a problem. They simply commandeered the vehicle the pair of investigative programs arrived in, leaving them with the nearly-ruined Audi. They didn't look very happy about it, but they weren't about to argue with the agents. Or Smith.

Once they were on their way back to the city, Chapman excused herself to download the latest security data from their headquarters, her face going completely blank as she communed with the mainframe. By the time they reached La Vrai they'd been updated with their headquarters' most current information…although none of it had to do with what had gone on with the highway chase or the Merovingian.

Smith and the others were greeted at the doors by three exiles of the lupine type, all large and obviously meant to look intimidating. The group was asked to check their weapons before going inside. Smith had expected the agents to put up at least some resistance to the request; but as they were ushered into La Vrai, all eyes on them, Evans told him that firearms weren't really required -- they could fight just as well barehanded, and besides, Collins could make anything into a weapon anyway.

"Now whatever you do," Smith muttered under his breath, as they approached the Merovingian's table, "Don't accept any dessert from him."

Smith, Morpheus, and the agents stood before their host. Surrounding the Frenchman was a cadre of bodyguards, including the twin programs Morpheus had mentioned earlier. Sitting on one side of the Merovingian was a dapper-looking male exile with bleached blond hair, and on the other was Persephone. She was gazing at Smith intently, and he got a flash of Neo's memory then. Of kissing her, while thinking of Trinity.

There was silence for a moment as both sides looked each other over. Then, the twins turned to Collins.

"You did it," the first said reproachfully.

"You blew up our car," the other accused.

The lead agent stared back at them blandly. "You shouldn't have rigged your car to explode."

The twins looked at each other, cocking their heads in perfect unison, and then laughed.

"You'll have to forgive my employees. The silver Jaguar was their favorite, you know," the Merovingian said, with that same forced cheerfulness he'd had on the phone. "Although I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at the damage that was caused. System agents have all the subtlety of a charging rhinoceros, after all." He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the group standing before him. "I must say, you are keeping very strange company these days, Morpheus. You, three agents…and him." He glanced pointedly at Smith. "One might think you'd switched sides."

"To an uninformed mind, it could appear that way," Morpheus countered smoothly.

"I am not a man who enjoys playing games, Morpheus," the Merovingian stated. "So I will get to the point. In the time since both our worlds were saved, there have been reports of you in the company of agents, but not Neo, although my sources tell me that Neo is still alive and living in Zion. However, the One has not been seen in the Matrix since his battle with Smith…but there have been sightings of you, Morpheus, with what appears to be the creature that nearly destroyed us all. But we all know that cannot be. Neo killed Smith, that is the sole reason that both the Matrix and Zion continue to exist." His gaze returned to the former agent, and his voice took on a deadly edge. "I believe an explanation is in order."

Smith smiled at the Frenchman -- the same sort of smile he used to give to humans he was interrogating. No wonder the Merovingian had been expending so much time and effort trying to draw him out. He was trying to figure out just what exactly Smith was. Only agents were programmed to see unplugged humans for what they really were; the Merovingian and his people had no way of doing this directly. Smith would show up on their scans as a human jacked into the Matrix, but his code would read more like a program's. All the Merovingian knew was that someone who looked like the virus that had threatened his life and his livelihood was back, in the company of a team of active agents and one of the leaders of the human resistance. It was an enigma. And for someone like the Merovingian, whose basis of power was information, this lack of knowledge was unacceptable.

"The explanation is quite simple," Smith said, taking off his sunglasses and looking the exile in the eyes. "I am exactly what I appear to be."

"You appear to be a human, a redpill, someone who is plugged into the Matrix from outside it," the Merovingian shot back. "But you also appear to be some kind of corrupted program—"

"A corrupted program would not be under the system's protection," interrupted Collins. "He is what he is. He is Smith."

"He is also the One," Morpheus said.

The Merovingian's face twisted into a snarl. "That is impossible."

"You would think so, wouldn't you," replied Smith evenly.

"He's telling the truth," said Persephone, looking extremely perturbed. The emotions she was sensing from the group had made it clear to her they weren't lying. Whatever else she was picking up, she didn't seem to want to share.

The Merovingian leaned closer to him, with an expression of disbelief. "You are Smith?"

"I am Smith."

"But how can that be, Smith was one of us, a program, how could a program be in a position to jack into the Matrix as a human would?"

"I would tell you to ask Neo, if he were still alive. He was the one responsible," Smith replied casually. "I'm still not quite sure of the mechanics that were involved."

"The downloading of Smith into Neo's physical body just as Neo died was a very complicated process," Evans stated.

The Merovingian looked utterly appalled. "And the Architect has allowed this?" he sputtered.

"He seemed to approve," replied Morpheus.

The Merovingian looked at Smith, then Morpheus, then back at Smith. He shook his head. "It seems the inmates are finally running the asylum."

"If you're concerned about your continued existence, or the existence of the Matrix, there's no need to worry. For now," said Smith. "Without a habitable surface for humanity to return to, the Matrix must remain as it is. And the only way the surface can become habitable is by clearing the sky." He raised an eyebrow, then put his shades back on. "Which means you probably won't have to deal with that for a long, long time."

"Neo understood that the construct must be preserved in some way, even if every human was freed," said Collins. "To shut it down would condemn people like the Oracle and Sati to death." She paused, looking at the Merovingian and the rest of the exiles. "Perhaps an understanding could be reached…"

The rest of the conversation mostly involved mutual assurances, the striking of a deal that the Machines would overlook some of the Merovingian's more unlawful activities in exchange for his non-interference with the project to clear the sky. And assuming the sky could be cleared -- bringing with it an unlimited source of power for the Machines -- the Matrix would continue to exist, fueled by the sun, as a testing ground for scientific and engineering simulations, and would remain a haven for the programs residing within it.

The Frenchman, after carefully considering his options, agreed to the terms that Collins had relayed from the mainframe. But at the end of the meeting, just as they were about to leave, the Merovingian stopped them.

From around his neck, the Frenchman pulled out a chain, on which hung a key. He removed it, then handed it to Smith.

"As a gesture of good faith," he said. "I had this made by the Keymaker, before his untimely death…I suspected that one day it might be useful, even though I could not use it myself. I never thought I would be giving it to someone like you."

Smith held the key up, examining it in the light. It looked like a perfectly ordinary key. "What does this key unlock?"

"You will see, my friend," the Merovingian said with a smile. "But I must warn you, you need to be the one to use it. It will only work for someone like you. That is why I cannot use this key, just as Morpheus and your lovely agents cannot."

Smith looked at the key again. Still, he found nothing unusual, not even when he examined its code.

"You will thank me, my friend," the Merovingian said, as they were leaving. "Go to the address I have given you, and remember, you must be the one to use the key -- and you must also be the first one to step inside."

"Where are we going?" asked Collins, once they were back in the car.

Smith peered at the card he'd been given. "London."


	10. Part 10: Strange Love

Part 10: Strange Love  


London, while it was further in virtual distance than La Vrai had been from the car wreck, actually took less time to reach than the restaurant had. Smith and Morpheus simply jacked out through the nearest hardline, and then re-entered the Matrix through another insertion point about half a mile from their destination. The agents were already there, waiting for them, barely visible in the nighttime darkness. This time they didn't have a car. They'd been cautioned not to use anything provided by the system once they got there, so they began walking.

The mainframe had no information on either the address they'd been given or the key itself. But although none of them trusted the Merovingian, even the agents admitted curiosity about what might be behind the door the key would unlock. Not that there was anything out of the ordinary about the door, or any other part of the residence where they now found themselves.

Their journey had ended at a small house in a quiet residential neighborhood. Again, nothing abnormal was evident from the outside. There seemed to be some minor fluctuations in the background code of the area, but such things were fairly common in the Matrix, and easily visible to those who could sense them.

"I'm not reading any potential hazards," said Collins, who would have preferred being the one to go in first. As the Merovingian said, though, that wasn't possible. For some reason, Smith was the only one who could insert the key into the lock. Both Morpheus and Collins had tried, but when they did, it was as if the key wouldn't fit. And even after Smith put the key in, none of the others could turn it. "It looks safe."

"Looking safe and being safe aren't the same thing," Morpheus replied. "Be careful."

Smith nodded, and then, bracing himself, pushed the key back into the lock and turned. Carefully, he opened the door and stepped inside.

"What do you see?" asked Evans softly. They didn't know what they might find in there, so they'd agreed that caution was the best strategy.

"Not much," he whispered back. "Come on in."

The others followed Smith into the dimly lit front hallway, then into the house's living room. The agents were suspicious, of course, but they could find nothing amiss. Not there, or in the dining room, or in the kitchen. There was some leftover Chinese food in the refrigerator, along with various other nondescript food items, but nothing interesting. Nothing out of place at all. Upstairs there was a small home office with a computer; a bathroom with some toothpaste, hair dye, and a bottle of contact lens solution on the shelf; and at the end of the hallway, a closed door. Collins crept closer, listening. There were sounds coming from behind the door…

Evidently Collins didn't like what she was hearing, so before Smith could stop her, she kicked the door in, bursting through with her weapon drawn.

And then she froze. Her partners did too, shock clearly evident on their normally impassive faces.

Smith pushed past her, as did Morpheus, both trying to see what had affected the agents so strongly. Collins was still standing in the doorway, gun in hand but not aimed. Once inside, Morpheus stopped short as well. And once Smith was able to get around them, he could finally see what the others had seen.

It was a bedroom, and there were two people in each other's arms, wrapped in a tight embrace. Both were male. They were nude, and looked almost as stunned as Collins, but the man with the dark hair recovered faster than she had. He leapt out of the bed, not bothering to cover himself, placing himself between the interlopers and his partner -- his partner, who had sandy colored hair and hazel eyes.

But that wasn't right, was it…

Smith couldn't help himself. "Jones? Brown?"

Jones stopped dead, taking in the impossible sight of Morpheus, three system agents, and his former team leader-turned-virus together. By now Brown had gotten up too, and Jones put his arm in front of him, as if to protect him, but Brown pushed forward anyway. "Smith?"

Smith nodded, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. "It's me."

Collins and her team were still gaping at Smith's former partners. Collins took off her glasses, staring, as if to make sure she was really seeing what was there in front of her. Evans was wide-eyed but silent, and Chapman, usually the least perturbable of the three, had her eyebrows almost up to her hairline.

Now both of his former teammates were staring at him, no doubt seeing him as the Merovingian could not. "Smith, what happened to you?" Jones asked in disbelief.

Brown shifted closer to Jones before speaking again. "We knew that you'd become a…a virus, but now, you're…"

"Human," answered Collins, when words failed him. "And you are exiles."

Neo's memories rose up again, unbidden, and for the first time Smith saw what had happened after Neo tore him apart. He didn't like it. "You ran," he said in astonishment. "You left me."

Smith's biting accusation made Jones look away. "What other choice did we have?" he asked, unable to meet his former superior's eyes. "What happened to you would have happened to us, if we'd stayed."

"We didn't want to leave you," Brown said, his time as an exile and away from the checks and balances the system imposed on its agents quite evident -- his anguish was clear on his face, in his voice. No wonder Collins and the others were shocked. They were more animated, more emotional, than Smith had ever seen them.

"I thought you'd been destroyed, or deleted," Smith countered. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh. Those same checks and balances on his psyche were no longer influencing him, either, and he was certain that his own feelings were obvious. "It took time for me to return, but when I had, I looked for you. I couldn't find you."

"We were scheduled for deletion," said Jones. "Because of what Neo did to you, and because we couldn't stop it."

"And because we didn't see what was happening to you, even before that day." Guilt was coloring Brown's voice now, just as it had with Jones. "It was our fault. We should have recognized that something was wrong, and we should have been able to help you. But we didn't; just like we didn't help you that last day. So we were ordered to return to the Source."

"But we didn't go. We couldn't go. So we chose not to," Jones said, a little defiantly. He took Brown's hand. "We did not want to die."

"And we still don't want to die," said Brown. He looked at the agents flanking Smith. "Have they come here to delete us?"

"No, we weren't sent to delete you," said Collins, who had obviously never considered that agents, even exiled ones, might choose to participate in such a human activity as the one they'd interrupted. "We didn't even know you were here. But there's no need for concern. The mainframe's instructions are quite specific; you are not to be harmed."

Had Smith been born human, he would have breathed a sigh of relief at the orders Collins must have just received. Jones and Brown would live. He knew the Machines wanted to stay on his good side, so they wouldn't do anything that would jeopardize their new relationship with the One. And Smith definitely didn't want his former partners deleted -- he'd been prepared to fight to see that they weren't – and he was thankful that he wouldn't have to, even if he'd once harbored some resentment against them. He could certainly understand their wish to survive. "We honestly didn't know what we would find when we came here," he said, taking the key from his pocket and handing it to Brown. "I was given this address, and a key."

The former intelligence unit examined the key carefully. "This was designed to get past the defenses we'd set up. It was encoded to only be usable by a program that was formerly an agent." Brown raised an eyebrow, a picture of intellectual curiosity despite his nakedness. "Where did you get it?"

"Yes, how did you find us?" asked Jones, his expression a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "How did you become as you are now?"

"And what are you doing with these new agents, and Morpheus?" questioned Brown.

Morpheus sighed. "It's a long story," he said. "So you may want to put some clothes on…"

They did so, and as the explanation unfolded, Jones and Brown sat and listened raptly, occasionally interrupting to ask questions or to request more detailed information. They were fascinated by the turn of events that had led Smith to Zion, as well as to them. Smith found it odd to see them in casual clothing rather than suits, even more so than seeing them with their dyed hair and colored contact lenses -- all to camouflage their true identities from anyone who might recognize them, they said, once Smith had finished his story and they began theirs. They'd learned to hide in areas of code flux, as far from their old territory as possible; and to hide from other exiles (who might have a vendetta against them), as well as from the agents who'd once been their colleagues. It wasn't common knowledge in Zion, but agents hunted exiles as well as unplugged humans. It had not been an easy life, cut off from the system. But they were intrigued by the new developments they were just now learning of. Jones seemed very enthusiastic about the truce, and Brown looked like he was already thinking about ways the sky might be cleared. Brown had always been the most curious of the three, and Smith wondered if he'd been the one to initiate the relationship with Jones.

"We lost our ability to communicate mind-to-mind when we became exiles," Jones explained (even though Morpheus seemed surprised that Smith had actually asked). "We had to give up our earpieces-- our connection to the system, and to each other."

Smith knew what that was like. "Agents aren't meant to be separated from their partners," he said. "It's difficult, not having that connection."

Brown nodded. "This was as close as we could get to what we'd had," he answered softly. "At first, we thought it would be a poor substitute, and that it would have to do." He smiled slightly. "But at the time, we had no idea that physical intimacy could be so…intimate."

"Other exiles engage in these acts, as well as non-exiled programs," said Jones, looking pointedly at the three current agents. "You should not condemn us for what we've done."

"We weren't condemning you," Collins replied. "We were surprised. We didn't realize that our kind would ever engage in those activities, as exiles or not."

"It's not only exiles that do this," said Brown. "Other programs often behave as humans do, in many ways."

"Sati's parents loved each other, and loved the daughter they created, and they aren't exiles," Smith pointed out.

Collins clearly wasn't convinced. "Sati's parents aren't agents."

Morpheus still looked somewhat perplexed. Smith could understand why. Humans didn't know much about Machine society, much less how sentient Machines thought. Even Neo had been surprised at how similar they were to humans -- the Merovingian's lust (for power and for women), Persephone's anger at her husband, the Oracle's kindness…and Smith's hatred. But before he died, Neo had come to understand the spark of humanity that ran through them all. The Machines were not so different as he'd been led to believe. How could they be, when their brains were set up to work like a human's? And for programs within the Matrix, with bodies like those of the humans they worked with or hid among, that was even more true.

"Agents are different from most other programs," Smith told him. "For most AI, emotional responses don't matter. When they exist, they may be mild or intense, easily provoked or not, depending on the individual," he said. "But not for agents. Built into an agent's programming is a feedback control mechanism, designed to dampen down their emotions, keep them on an even keel, so they can focus."

"So we won't be swayed by compassion, or sympathy. So we won't be swayed from our duties to kill the humans we once protected," said Jones, sounding almost bitter.

"We're not monsters. We were never meant to be," said Brown, gazing steadily at Morpheus. "Smith told you about the first Matrix, while he was interrogating you. The perfect world. But he didn't tell you that the agents of the first Matrix were guardians and protectors. That humans didn't run when they saw us, because they knew there was no reason to be afraid."

"It was pleasant. And we hadn't experienced anything like that for so long we'd almost forgotten what it was like," said Jones. "Until we were exiled."

Collins' face suddenly went blank. That meant she wasn't just talking with the mainframe, but that she was in total synchrony with it, as Chapman had been while downloading the security data. Smith could sense the code flowing through the ground substance of the Matrix; and given the size and speed of the transfer, something major was being communicated to her. The data stream was huge.

Collins blinked as the contact was broken. "The mainframe offers reinstatement for Jones and Brown," she announced.

"Reinstatement?" Smith repeated carefully. "Not just a reprieve from their death sentence, or tolerance for them as exiles, but reinstatement?"

"Reinstatement."

"You mean, make them agents again," said Morpheus. He looked like he didn't know what to think of the idea.

"Yes, if they and the One wish it."

Jones and Brown looked at each other. "To have purpose again…it was more than we could have hoped for," said Jones.

"To no longer be exiled," Brown replied.. "No more running, no more hiding."

"No need to fear deletion by your own kind," added Smith.

"That would be most welcome," said Jones, but then he frowned slightly as he glanced at his partner. "However, there are some things about this life…that I do not wish to give up."

Brown raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "I concur."

Jones turned to Smith, then to Collins. "I understand now what I never could have before -- why the exiles did what they did, why they defied the Source and remained hidden in the Matrix. They didn't want to die," he said. "We didn't want to die either. How can we go back to what we were, when we know we'll be forced to kill others whose only crime is wanting to live?"

"The mainframe disposes of programs, just like the humans used to dispose of Machines. Just like B166ER," Brown challenged. "Who's to say we won't eventually be deleted, once we come back under the system's influence?"

Collins glanced at her partners, communicating silently with both them and their superiors. Afterwards, both agents handed her their earpieces.

"Use these," said Collins, holding them out to Jones and Brown. "Talk to the mainframe yourselves, and state your case."

Brown and Jones regarded each other for a moment, as if they were still able to speak to each other without words. Then they seemed to come to an agreement. Each took an earpiece and inserted it, and each closed his eyes as their connection was reestablished.

Smith could sense that they were communicating with the mainframe, as well as with Collins. Once again, Smith found himself to be a bit envious. He still missed this.

Minutes went by. This was an eternity for an AI, when data transfer was almost instantaneous. But once it was over, Jones and Brown were smiling again. Even Collins looked pleased.

"Brown and Jones are to be reinstated as agents," she announced. "But because of their circumstances, the constraints on their emotional centers will be bypassed. Their minds will stay as they are, as they requested." She glanced at them warily, as if she didn't know what to make of the two of them. They didn't seem to mind.

"It couldn't have taken you that long to work this out with the mainframe," said Smith. "What else were you talking about?"

"The future," she said. "The Matrix must stay as it is, for now, because humanity cannot be released until the sky is cleared. We knew that already." She paused. "We also know that when and if this comes to pass, the Matrix will still have its uses…as a testing ground, a laboratory, a gigantic computer simulation with real-world rules. And for those from the Machine civilization that have outgrown their programming -- or their usefulness -- they will be permitted to take up residence here, once the sky is cleared."

"You're saying that the Machines won't simply delete those sentient programs that no longer serve a purpose," said Morpheus.

"Yes," she replied. "Although until the sky is cleared, those exiles already here are a drain on the system." She cleared her throat. "Still…as a gesture of good faith, and to maintain the peace with our fellow AI as well as humanity, the mainframe is offering a general amnesty. Not just for the Merovingian or exiles like Seraph or Sati, but for all exiles currently within the Matrix." She looked up at Jones and Brown. "Exiles will not be hunted just because they're exiles. Only if they break the laws of the system, or threaten the peace."

"Zion…agents…and exiles. All at peace." Smith shook his head. "I never would have thought it possible."

"The Oracle did say that the way to the future was together," said Morpheus. "I suppose she meant all of us together."

Smith considered this. "I suppose she did."

"Do you know what this means, Smith?" Jones asked expectantly, coming over to stand by his old team leader.

"No, what?"

"It means that the One will be regarded as not just the savior of Zion and the Machines, but the exiles as well," said Brown, also moving to stand at Smith's side.

"It's true," said Collins. "They will all look to you as their hope for the future. For humans, Machines, and exiles."

Morpheus looked at Smith, who had just realized that the manifold duties and responsibilities of being the One had just doubled, and smiled. "I hope you're up to it."

End.


End file.
